Double Edged Sword
by Safe to Sway
Summary: Cloud enters a Faustian Pact with a fiend to become the one thing he needs more than his own soul...a SOLDIER. But in the end, the price may be more than he's willing to pay when the Demon of Wutai meets the demon Hell-bent on being the one to devour the soul they both would give their own to savor. YAOI, Final Fantasy VII x Kuroshitsuji, Cloud x Sebastian, Cloud x Sephiroth
1. Chapter 1

_I have been racking my head trying to clear up the writer's block I have been suffering from for the last month concerning 'Our Time' and I sincerely apologize to all for that. So, until my muse finally hits me and knocks the cobwebs out of the attic, I'm going to try something new._

_I was debating on whether or not to post this as a 'cross-over', but since the only character from Kuroshitsuji that is in this fic is Sebastian, and this entire story takes place in the world of Final Fantasy VII, I decided to post it here. _

_This will be YAOI!_

_You have been warned!_

_As you all know, feedback is welcomed and greatly appreciated!_

_I own nothing but my warped imagination!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

_Winter 1995_

The most sinfully, luscious soul.

A spirit so tormenting, so overpowering, that the mere tang of it filled one's mind and body with delirious pleasure, like an aphrodisiac gifted by the gods.

It was what a reserved and tactful demon sought; preserving themselves, unwilling to just partake in any wandering will that crossed their path.

And a rarity it was.

Most fiends live out their entire existence roaming the earth and mortal desires, never once finding that one soul, a soul worth death for just one drop of its essence to dance upon their tongue.

Crimson eyes glowed with remorseless covet as they watched absorbedly from afar, witnessing the young boy, not even of teenage year, taking blow after blow from his assailants. A wet tongue slinked slowly over quivering lips as the alluring bouquet of ruby red essence wafted through the chilled, mountain air and flowed like a rivulet from the crest of soft, blond spikes and down a porcelain-skinned cheek, melting the frozen ground with droplets of warm ecstasy.

"It's all your fault, freak!" one boy yelled, his boot planting itself deep into the pit of the blond's gut, more bliss spewed forth like fine, claret wine being poured from a golden chalice.

"You're gonna feel her pain!" another boy spat, grabbing the limp body from the ground by the throat, only letting go once the flawless, alabaster flesh beneath his fingertips had been marred black and blue.

The blond battled for air and clutched his abdomen, using what little strength he had left to push his battered body up off the ground and onto shaking hand and knees, strings of bloody saliva and arduous breaths shot forth from his gaping mouth.

"You should be dead, not her!" the final boy yelled out with tear soaked eyes, picking up a nearby quarry stone, and without hesitation, throwing it with all his might down upon the junction of neck and shoulder. With a retch-inducing snap, the blond crumpled to the ground, motionless.

A writhing pain coursed through his small, maimed form. But it wasn't the pain that had been inflicted upon him by the three boys that took their prejudiced abhorrence out on him. No, this was a pain that pulsed with strength and vigor straight from his core, just as his heart once did. And the rhythm was excruciating. It was a pain that wrought his young life, and now would haunt his death.

Failure.

He had failed to protect her, to reach her in time before the bridge gave way and collapsed into the misty depths of Mt. Nibel's foot. And now, this was his punishment.

"_You wish to see her again?"_

The echoing, velvet baritone hummed with a soft and opulent tone, breaking the silence and slowly numbing the senses, dissolving the pain away like spring's sunshine melting the winter's snow.

Bright, sapphire eyes slowly fluttered open, the question asked by the voice was all too tempting to keep them closed and continue hoping that the suffering would engulf him and swallow his worthless soul into oblivion.

"Tifa?" was the confused query from a voice so tattered and frayed that only the divine could comprehend the language of affliction that had just been uttered.

Dark suddenly turned to light as his eyes began to focus, only having to shield them with his hand against the bright, white nothingness he found himself bound in. "Is this…Heaven?" he asked, his hushed, youthful voice gaining a bit more potency and culpability.

If this was, indeed, Heaven, then why was he here? He had no right to be graced with such a privilege. His soul should be rotting in the fiery pits of Hell for his transgression. The one person he would have gladly given his life for had lost her own. And it was all his fault.

He wasn't quick enough. He wasn't brave enough. He wasn't strong enough.

A smooth, debonair chuckle echoed quite pleasantly through the expanse of white. _"No, this is hardly Heaven. This place is where life and death convene and part. A place where dreams become reality and reality becomes a dream. This place is where _I_ can give you what your heart desires most. But of course," _the voice paused briefly, as if savoring the thought of its next words like the nectar of forbidden fruit, "_naught is free._"

The boy's hand slowly moved from his eyes as darkness returned in the form of a tall, shadowed silhouette looming over him. But even trapped in the cold darkness that now snuffed the warmth and light once again, he felt no vacillation. No fear. "Tell me what I have to do." the words as solid as stone.

Another, almost seductive, laugh rumbled deep and rich from the throat. _"You are making this effortless. I expected to have to play the game of 'twenty questions' as it seems to have become a standard. But, then again, you are…inimitable. I should only expect the unexpected from you, Cloud Strife."_

Blue eyes shot wide until a bewildered assumption was made. "How did…? Are you a…?"

A moment of curious silence was soon followed by a warm and gentle wind. At first breath, Cloud swore he could smell the familiar bouquet of brackish river water mingling with crab apple blossoms and lilac blooms that would bud and flower each spring along the valley just beyond the border of his hometown waft through the air. He closed his eyes as the breeze softly ran its tender fingers through his golden spikes, soothingly tilting his head back and allowing the solace rays of warmth beaming down brightly from above caress his face with its radiance.

"Come on, Cloud! Quit daydreaming! It's getting away!"

A thump, faded and weak at first, soon gained momentum and strength against his rib cage. "Tifa?" Cloud whispered, quickly turning to behold the impossible miracle before him.

Her long, russet locks cascaded down the entire length of her back in a ponytail that bobbed to and fro as she ran along the rushing riverbed chasing an elusive, emerald dragonfly. When she turned mid-stride, her smiling, garnet eyes found the timid, sapphire ones they sought out as they silently called to them, reassuring them that everything was going to be alright.

_We're friends…right, Cloud?_

He couldn't even begin to count how many times he had heard her bubbly voice speak those needed words of comfort. But this time, those words weren't enough…because those were the last to escape her lips before the screams of terror.

"This isn't real." The boy's voice was gruff with emotion, turning away from the vision he wished more than anything was genuine and alive, just as he used to be. The thump in his chest growing silent once more.

Maybe this was Hell.

Being tormented by wonderful hallucinations and delusions of what will never be again was more than torture. If in death's clutches he could gouge his eyes out of his head, slit his own throat and be done with all of this, he would.

"_It can be. You can see her again. You can become what you've always dreamed."_

Cloud's disconcerted eyes hesitantly lifted when a sound resembling the beat of wings began to grow louder and louder. He then turned to the riverbed where the apparition of Tifa had been just moments before to find a tall, raven-haired man standing at the waterway's edge staring intently at a black feather floating on top of the moving mirror of liquid.

The gentleman was strangely dressed in a style of garb that one from this period of time in Nibelheim would describe as _fyrndagas. _Under his black, velvet trimmed tailcoat revealed a white, Victorian style dress shirt with a high-stand collar and a dark red, double-breasted, silk vest in a scrolling design. A black, silk ascot with an ornamental, ruby stud finished off the top half of the ensemble. His black, brushed trousers tapered snuggly down his legs and around his equally black, leather lace-up boots.

His presence was that of grace and allure. From the longer wisps of his raven hair that framed his striking, alabaster countenance, to the eloquent litheness of his tall, lean form, Cloud couldn't recall ever seeing another man more beautiful before, other than the famed, and influential Silver General of ShinRa's military.

"Sephiroth? Is that who you want to be like?" the man asked nonchalantly in a lush voice slightly accented in Eastern dialect, kneeling down and plucking the feather from the water's surface with black, leather clad fingers.

Cloud swallowed down the lump in his throat that formed at not only the sound of the General's name being spoken out loud, but also at the fact that this stranger seemed to of guessed what he had been thinking. "Who are you?" he demanded, taking a bold step forward.

A genuinely beautiful smile touched the man's lips as he stood to his full height and slowly began to close the distance between himself and Cloud. "I am anyone you command me to be."

Cloud's daring rapidly diminished as he slowly took a precarious step backwards, tripping over a large rock deep-seated into the ground, when he witnessed the crimson irises of the man's eyes glow brightly around slit pupils.

Before the fallen boy could regain his footing and continue his retreat, out of nowhere, a pair of dark arms gently scooped him up off the ground and seated him upon the trunk of a nearby fallen tree. "You really must be more careful and vigilant. Dangers lurk everywhere, Cloud…even in the sanctuary of your most precious of memories." the gentleman kindly, but firmly warned, gently brushing the dirt and pine needles from Cloud's clothing.

"But, I—I'm dead. What does it even matter?" the boy's grief took hold of his fear as the words the man had just uttered suddenly sunk in.

"Far from." the man countered graciously, attentively removing a dried leaf tangled in a lock of blond hair.

Eyes full of purity and marvel braved a glance at the ones that were staring back with luminous craving. "What's your name?"

"What name do you wish to give me?" the gentleman asked, a forced calm aiding his composure.

Blond eyebrows furrowed with surprise. "Really?"

The gentleman could only nod his head in response.

The boy quickly darted nervous eyes to the piece of bark on the tree trunk he was anxiously picking at, contemplating a name to give this strange, but seemingly helpful, man. And for some reason, the only name that came to mind was one that reminded him of _her_.

"Sebastian." he suddenly blurted out, not being able to look the man in the eye after it parted his lips.

The gentleman tilted his head slightly, lifting the feather he still held between his fingers. "And where does such a name come from?"

"...It's…well…Tifa had this…cat…" Cloud started, but soon embarrassment reddened his cheeks and cut his explanation short.

Sebastian smiled and bowed gracefully, "I am deeply honored to be named after such a lovely creature," he expressed with gratitude, transforming the feather into a single white rose and presenting it to his beloved prey.


	2. Chapter 2

_Here is another sweet piece of brain candy… _

_I love learning new things and filling my mind with knowledge. This tidbit is the 'Legend of Faust' I have researched and read. I knew what the infamous 'Faustian Pact' was; I just didn't know all the details until now and wanted to share a short snippet of it with all of you!_

_XXX_

_The Faust legend has been the basis for many literary, artistic, cinematic, and musical works that have reinterpreted it through the ages. __**Faust**__ and the adjective __**Faustian **__imply a situation where an ambitious person surrenders mortal integrity in order to achieve power and success for a delimited term. _

_The Legend…_

_Faust was bored and disappointed. He decided to call on the Devil for further knowledge and magic powers with which to indulge all the pleasure and knowledge of the world. In response, the Devil's representative, Mephistopheles (one of the seven archangels cast out of heaven), appears. He makes a bargain with Faust: Mephistopheles will serve Faust with his magic powers for a set number of years, but at the end of the term, the Devil will claim Faust's soul and Faust will be eternally damned. The term usually stipulated in the early tales is 24 years—one year for each of the hours in a day._

_XXX_

_I due urge anyone who is captivated by this fable to please look it up and read it in its entirety. _

_But now, on with this story!_

_Thank you to each and every one who reviewed, faved and followed! I am grateful!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

_Autumn 0001_

The pungent scent of perspiring bodies and neurotic pride hit the face and crudely invaded enhanced senses as soon as the automatic doors of the training facility parted and allowed entry to its guest.

A narrow corridor leading up a flight of steps to an observation balcony high above the main floor shielded view of the visitor, which was a good thing. If they knew _he_ was to be a spectator for this part of the assessment, all attention would be on his presence and not their objective: To prove their worth. To show they belong among the Elite. To attest that they should be granted the honor of becoming a SOLDIER.

This was the moment that they had waited their entire lives for. And out of the three of them that quickly lined up and stood at attention at the barking order of their drill instructor, only one would be the chosen.

The most affluent conglomerate on the Planet only plucked the most vibrant and developed fruit from the trees that were cultivated in their coppice, even though the seeds that are sown are for its own personal gain of supremacy and conquest.

But to the young who give up their old lives and arrive at ShinRa with dreams and aspirations of being reborn into a new life of wealth and power, wonder and adventure, they could care less what underlying secrets of atrocity their salvation was involved in, as long as they could be a part of this legendary world and all its glory, that's all that mattered.

"This is the end of the line, fuck-heads. It's do or die, sink or swim," the instructor stating the obvious in a gruff and booming tone, clasping his hands behind his back as he made his way slowly down the short line of longingly, anxious hopefuls, his narrowed and burning stare adding to the heat of apprehensiveness causing them to sweat bullets.

That is, except for one.

At the very end of the line stood one cadet who could be, and was, considered the nonconformist of the group.

His stance was reserved and unwavering, showing no signs of unease or trepidation, even when the instructor stopped and swiftly turned to butt noses and cast his foul-breathed words, braying and spiteful, in his face, "How _you_ even made it this far, this quick, is beyond my fuckin' comprehension, pretty boy. And I'm lookin' forward to watchin' your ass gettin' bent over and fucked hard today. What'cha say to that, Strife?" droplets of spittle ran down the blond's face as his superior smiled back with a shit-eating grin plastered on his leather-skinned mug.

Eyes, cold and indomitable, bore right through the beady green ones that suddenly lost their beam of disdain in the shadows of darkness that writhed within the sapphire pools holding them under their drowning depths. "Yes…Sir," was the answer given slow and deliberate, with just the slightest hint of bane poisoning it.

"Man, what the hell is up O'Malley's ass?" an incensed voice growled from within the black-glassed partition high above. "He should be reprimanded for singling out Cloud like that, shouldn't he, Angeal?"

The raven-haired First turned to his Second Class protégé with candidness not only in his words, but also in his glowing, hazel orbs. "Zack, it is his task to assist in the 'weeding out' process. Although, I do agree that his tactics are a bit…crass."

Zack sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling somewhat dispirited. "Yeah, and from what I've heard he's had it in for Cloud since his first day. I'm just afraid he's going to try something purposefully to nix his chances of making it to Third."

"And that is why our discreet presence is required."

Both SOLDIERs turned their attention to the owner of the imposing presence making its self known.

"Sephiroth," Angeal nodded, "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to be attending." he smiled slightly, assuring his friend that it was nothing more than a playful jab at his procrastination.

The General curtly nodded in return, swiftly moving his emerald gaze to the floor below and onto the student being discussed. "So, that's him." it was more of a statement than a question as his eyes roved to the haunted, blue ones that seemed to be returning the gesture, shattering the wall of midnight glass that separated self-belief from suspicion.

The Second smiled. "Yeah, that's Cloud Strife. A bit of a hard nut to crack…you know, a loner, keeps to himself…but a great kid, none-the-less. I've been sparring with him…getting him ready," he smiled, jabbing a proud thumb into his chest, "the kid's got some serious skill, and has a will the strength of mythril. He's also a straight 'A' student and a natural with materia."

"I'm well aware of the cadet's proficiency," the General made abruptly clear, keeping his rapt attention on the blond that was now, along with the other plebes, being explained the stipulations for this final evaluation by the Sergeant.

Zack Fair had been talking up this cadet for days now, claiming he was—'Born to be a SOLDIER'. Of course, that invention of preposterous avers had piqued the General's interest enough to do a bit of investigating, only to find that Fair's conclusions concerning the cadet were, in fact, accurate. Suspiciously accurate.

Other than a few test scores that were slightly low, Cloud Strife's academic performance was excellent, one of his highest scores being in materia training. And that alone was enough to raise an eyebrow.

Very few SOLDIERs chose to wield the power of materia except the basics such as Cure, Barrier, Heal, and a low level combat spell or two for the sheer fact that it was such a complex and arduous skill to pull off, let alone perfect. In fact, the only one who wielded and used expertly, mastered materia besides Sephiroth was First Class Commander Genesis Rhapsodos. So to have a cadet come along with such a knack for an extremely difficult skill to even come close to using adeptly without the advantage of Mako running through their veins was an automatic 'red flag' in the General's book.

Further investigation also showed that Cloud Strife had just joined the Academy in late spring. It was now early autumn. To qualify for advancement that fast was almost unheard of. It was a surprise, indeed, that the Science Department hadn't caught wind and stuck their meddling noses up this particular cadet's ass yet. But even more shocking was the fact that the General, himself, had just learned of this cadet and his rapid progression a mere week ago. Hearsay and gossip through the ranks usually spread like wildfire, so to not even know of Strife's skill level, let alone his existence, without hearing even a whisper of it through the grapevine was more than anomalous.

As cynical eyes watched on, the cadet's were now being given their choice of weapons and materia.

This part of the final exam was notorious for its controversial methods, but was, in ShinRa's eyes, the most effective way to separate the platinum from the fool's gold. As far as the company was concerned, it was the only way. This process not only harvested the cream of the crop, but also saved ShinRa from having to allot unnecessary funds and training. It was do or die, plain and simple.

Of course, precautions were taken in the form of at least one First Class SOLDIER to be present during the exam and also EMS to quickly treat and transport any wounded to the infirmary. The training facility was also locked down once all attendees had arrived to prevent any distractions or an unwanted audience that could end up getting maimed in the process.

The rules were simple: use the weapons provided, and your own improvising, to be the last one standing. And if death, whether inflicting it, or suffering from it, is the only option you have…so be it.

Although, miraculously, in all the many years that this 'exam' has taken place, there have been no casualties. But, there have been many limbs, careers, and camaraderie's lost. Way too many to even begin to count.

Directly behind where the cadets were standing was a table set up and covered in weaponry of all makes and low level materia of all types. Each cadet was allowed to choose one weapon, and one materia. And that choice best be a wise one, because it was the only one.

One at a time, the instructor called the boys out by last name, allowing them to approach the table and select their armaments. Cloud watched with calculating eyes as the first cadet approached and began mulling over his choices.

The cadet's name was Sean Regal, the Third Class pick for advancement. He had connections in and out of ShinRa, especially since his father worked in public relations and was buddy-buddy with many within the administration. He had also been nothing but an aggravating thorn in Cloud's side for the past couple of months. The six foot tall, one hundred and ninety pound, auburn-haired narcissist wasn't at all appreciative of a scrawny, five foot, four inch, blond and blued-eyed piece of fresh meat showing him up and stealing his spotlight. The sickening grin snaking across his face was proof enough as he grasped his choice of weapon by the hilt and slid the newly sharpened blade across his tongue, blood instantly glazing the muscle's surface, his smoldering glare burning brighter than the Fire materia he held in his opposite hand.

"Hmm…a broadsword, Fire materia, and self-mutilation. I do say, I find myself a bit jealous. I think he has really taken a shine to, young Master." a lush, black lash bowed with a wink of a crimson eye.

Cloud's eyes suddenly bulged at the sound and feel of the familiar voice breathing its ghosted words into his ear. But of course, Sean assumed the blond was in the process of shitting himself at the not-so-inconspicuous display of resentment, for lack of a better word. _"Sebastian, what are you doing here?"_ his demand, even though spoken mentally, was still a bit staggered and alarmed.

"Master, did you really think I would miss your day of ascension? I'm here to lend my moral support. Besides, it's not like anyone else can see me other than you…unless you command it." Sebastian bowed gracefully, even though Cloud only caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of one eye as both were trained straight ahead as if he was listening intently to whatever ramblings Sergeant O'Malley was blurting out.

"Moral _support?"_ Cloud scoffed mentally, trying his best to not to roll his eyes at his servant's choice of wording.

Sebastian smiled modestly. "But of course, what kind of servant would I be if I did not support my Master in the pursuits of his desires?"

"_If you weren't, and had no other Master's pursuits to serve, then that would make you nothing more than a soul-sucking demon lurking the shadows, waiting to pounce on your next meal." _a quick glower was tossed at said demon.

A brazen quirk of the lip and luminous crimson eyes exclaimed more than words possibly could. "Master, you make it sound so…wrong." Sebastian whirred deep and sensuous in the blond's ear.

A cold shiver crawled over every inch of Cloud's skin like spider legs at the sound of _that_ tone. Hypnotic, enchanting…lethal.

He knew why Sebastian was here, and it wasn't to support any pursuits but his own. It was to make sure his future entrée would have a soul to feast upon in eighteen years time at Hell's banquet.

A deep breath and a stern expression was called forth to fight the fear he had allowed the fiend to draw out, and he used that strength to issue a command that could not be disobeyed by the Devil's advocate. _"Sebastian, leave…that's an order."_

A raven eyebrow twitched a hair in incredulity, and was followed with an expression of obsequiousness. "As you wish, young Master." Sebastian placed a gloved hand over his heart and bowed elegantly before vanishing in a whirlwind of black feathers.

"Strife! Wake your worthless ass up and pick your poison!"

Cloud swallowed his apprehension down in one choking gulp, watching with rueful eyes as the raven tufts that were covering the floor blew away in an arcane gust of wind.


	3. Chapter 3

_A bit of eastern myth…_

_The Oni are mythical creatures from Japanese folklore similar to western demons or trolls. In modern culture they are beginning to move away from this menacing connotation into the role of guardian or protector, similar in character to gargoyles. __Their power and ferocity, however, have not diminished. There is a Japanese saying which translates to "Oni with an iron club", or to be of an invincible nature._

_Thank you to all for the feedback and support!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"_Leave?"_ the word sounded so strange it seemed almost absurd. But, it was what he had been commanded to do. An order that could not be denied.

A contract had been made, a pact that bound Hell's raven to ultimate bliss' every whim. And that indenture would hold true until the end.

Said raven perched itself upon the outstretched limb of an aged oak, wrapping black, needle point talons tightly around the branch of the lofty tree, midnight wings coming to rest at its side. With a 'bird's eye view' it watched intently through a skylight high above the trial about to begin in the gymnasium below, a bellowing squawk betraying its equanimity.

Cloud spared a quick glance to the transom above, and a silent curse, before moving his resolute gaze back to the table he now stood in front of and the array of weaponry staring back viciously.

He had to do this by his own mind and body. This victory would be his and his alone, even though the feeling of vulnerability was becoming more and more evident the faster his tentative heart beat against his chest.

Sebastian had been a crutch for long enough, a sentiment that had been growing quite strong over the last couple of months along with others that Cloud has struggled to rid from his thoughts. But, assistance in getting this far was one of the requests made and Sebastian had been there, by his side, abiding by his every wish. Cloud had made a deal with the demon, and Sebastian had been holding true is end of the bargain. Though, Cloud never really thought getting to this point would be possible, even with the help of one of Hade's disciples. He was now only one step away from becoming a SOLDIER. But, instead of swelling with pride for his achievements, he felt deflated and undeserving.

The last few months of reflection had found Cloud almost regretting the Faustian Pact he had made with the debonair creature, wishing he hadn't been so young and naive when Sebastian had come to him on that fateful day. But it wasn't because he was afraid of fulfilling his end of the agreement when the time came; no, it was the fact that he had allowed himself to depend on another for the strength and courage he alone should have been able to summon on his own within himself. He should be here now because of his own will and determination to make his aspirations come true, not by the artifice of a fiend. The only good thing that had emerged from this contract at all was Tifa's life being spared. And that alone was well worth being eternally damned.

Yet, even through all the lament, Cloud also felt somewhat thankful for Sebastian's presence through the years. Without it, without the demon, Tifa would have met an untimely end, and Cloud would not be standing here now to be given a chance to right the immoralities that plagued so many.

He would live to the seasoned age of thirty-four before his soul was to be consumed like an exquisite delicacy. However, until that day came, he vowed to dedicate his remaining existence in giving the lives of the unfortunate and ill-fated the justice they so deserved. But, he would do it alone…as a SOLDIER. He would bring ShinRa down from the inside out, restoring hope back to those whom had every ounce of it stripped away by the tyrannical corporation, even if it took every bit of the life he had left to live to accomplish.

After being blamed for Tifa's accident and cast out of Nibelheim, Cloud had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. His own mother had even turned her back on her only child, acting as if the son she bore was some sort of atrocity, thinking along with the rest of the townsfolk that once his cursed presence was removed from the mountain village it would lift the black veil of privation and ill-omen from their lives. No one had the courage to kill the boy for fear that his soul would enter their body and blight them as one of Hade's damned.

The boy was always being blamed for something, whether it be a withering crop, a blizzard, or a wolf attack, Cloud was forever at fault. And as a result of said singling out, he was constantly beleaguered by the village children and would end up bloodied and bruised as a consequence. The only person that showed him any sort of empathy and amity was Tifa, and even she would get beat by her own father for being anywhere near the haunted-eyed child.

The mother's virgin birth and the child that was born of it had been deemed an 'unholy abomination', forever condemned in the eyes of the ignorant.

The only peace and solitude found other than behind the locked door of his bedroom was the aged and abandoned manor that stood at the base of Mt. Nibel. Cloud had heard from idle gossip that the building had actually belonged to the affluent family of ShinRa, but had been deserted years and years ago to only fester and putrefy within the stench of wretchedness that surrounded it.

It was inside that forsaken place that Cloud stumbled upon documents and manuscripts forged in scientific languages that he could barely read, let alone comprehend, except for one word in particular that stood tall and proud amongst the rest…SOLDIER.

Further probing revealed that SOLDIER was ShinRa Electric Company's military might, and also the process of how these elite super-fighters were infused with 'The Planet's Blood' to give them herculean strength, speed and agility.

Cloud remembered overhearing boys in the village talk of leaving Nibelhiem once they were of age and becoming a part of ShinRa's army to one day fight alongside their hero The Great Sephiroth, First Class SOLDIER and leader of ShinRa's forces. And many did, only to have their dreams shattered when they either failed and returned home in shame, or ended up taking a plunge into the Lifestream never to be seen again.

The risks were great, but they held more promise to Cloud then the hopeless life he was forcing himself to live. The only reason he hadn't climbed Mt. Nibel and plummeted to his death was the simple fact that he would not allow the villager's prayers to their almighty God be answered. He would prove them wrong; he would become someone, anyone other than their scapegoat. And if that didn't work, then he'd become the malice incarnate that they claimed him to be and drag them all to Hell right along with him.

Sebastian and the contract that tied servant to master was the key to unlocking the gateway to redemption, and Cloud turned that key eagerly, pushed that gate open, and never looked back. His only regret at the time was leaving Tifa behind…for now.

Cloud left condemnation and traveled to Midgar with nothing but the clothes on his back and his demon servant by his side…and that's all he needed.

With hardly any money or a place to live when he arrived in the metropolis that seemed bigger and brighter than the sun itself, Cloud was forced to leave the overpriced lights above to dwell amongst the penniless shadows of the underworld known as the Slums, which he later learned was ShinRa's human refuse pile.

Destitution was an understatement in this shantytown. And even amidst Sebastian's offers to make their living situation more 'comfortable', Cloud refused. He would start from the bottom and work his way up no matter how hard he had to labor, or what he had to do until he was of age to join ShinRa Academy.

That tenacity and grit only made Sebastian salivate a river of want. A soul so tortured and abused that could still muster the strength of a titan and continue on; never faltering in its pursuit of retribution was a fine soul, indeed.

But the demon servant found not only his hunger for his master growing each day that passed, but also another sensation writhing within, an impression that was most uncharacteristic for a fiend's manipulative heart to experience…fondness.

No, it wasn't a fondness as in the fantasies he would conjure in his mind of the day he would devour his master's soul, bit by bit, savoring every last morsel as he reached euphoric heights of pleasure only known to the most privileged of demons. It wasn't like that at all. It was more like a warmth that would embrace and move him like winds of allure, akin to when he would catch his master gazing into the midnight sky, closing his deep, cerulean pools and wishing upon a celestial body streaking across the cosmos (though amused, Sebastian was still quite puzzled by such a thing, especially since he could grant any wish his master commanded of him). Or while watching over his master while he slept, the fulsome purity and fortitude emitting from the boy even while he dreamt was sometimes too much to bear and Sebastian would have to reach out and caress porcelain skin, stroking it tenderly, giving in slightly to the enchantment that, at times, threatened to undo him.

And because of these attributes, he served this master with more value than any other he had ever served before. Even going out of his way without his lord's sanction and helping him in any means possible, whether making sure there was a warm meal to fill his belly, or assisting him in self-defense training by disemboweling a pedophile and wrapping his intestines tightly around his craw, allowing the bastard who attempted to defile his master bleed out and choke to death at the same time.

If he couldn't prepare a proper meal for his master or instruct a suitable technique for using the entrails of the deranged in an appropriate fashion, then what kind of a servant would he be?

By his master's side, that was his place. It always had been, it always would be. Until the end.

Vermillion eyes never left their lord as they observed and spoke with dissuasion.

Cloud suddenly felt his hand being pulled away by invisible fingers as if preventing him from making contact with the Ice materia he was about to grab, his eyes knowingly narrowing. _"I'll order you to fly your feathered ass to Wutai if you keep meddling."_

A small smirk showed itself when only silence was spoken back.

"Come on, Strife! Quit jackin' off!" O'Malley spat impatiently.

Of course, that silence didn't last.

A deep breath was slowly exhaled as each of the remaining materia orbs stared back with glowing eagerness.

Sebastian was obviously making it known that Ice magic was not a good choice, and the more Cloud calmed his mind and thought about it, the more he understood why.

Sean and the other cadet, Avery, had both chosen elemental magic as their materia choices, basically arming themselves with two weapon types: a Rune Blade and Fire materia, and a Mythril Saber and Earth materia.

All brawn and no brains.

And that made Cloud's decision all the more easier as he reached out and grabbed hold of a yellow-green orb shimmering softly with the Planet's power swirling within.

A slight nod of approval was given by ShinRa's General from his viewpoint high above. The boy was using common sense, which hopefully possessed more strength than his small frame and delicate features.

Now that Cloud had his defense procured, it was time to select his offense.

Sebastian had been a very able tutor when it came to sword fighting, but even before that Cloud had always been an avid aficionado of the blade. It took a regimented mind and dexterous body to wield such a weapon. It also connected both mind and body in a way that no other form of fighting style could. Sebastian referred to swordplay as—_la valse du diable_. Once Cloud interpreted said depiction, he realized just how disturbingly fitting it actually was.

A silver eyebrow quirked slightly in surprise at the cadet's next choice, allowing a minute curl of the lip to bend the otherwise impassive expression.

And it didn't go unnoticed.

"He told me since epees aren't available for this exam, then his next best choice would be that." Zack smiled, moving his attention back to Cloud and the sword he was now wrapping his fingers tightly around.

Sephiroth said nothing and kept his now extremely rapt attention on the blond and his curious choice of arms.

Just like with materia, there were certain armaments that were considered the 'norm' and used by most SOLDIERs. Once reaching First Class, however, SOLDIERs were allowed to customize their weapons to befit their fighting style. Most stuck with enhanced versions of the broadsword. Others, such as the Elite Threesome, had modified swords made especially for them that not only depicted their personification, but also their unique modus operandi of combating. But only one man was ever known to wield the blade that now vested itself in Cloud Strife's hand.

Whatever weapon was chosen by the cadets to use during this exam was theirs to keep if they so desired, upon passing, of course. The weapons provided for this trial were made of the finest craftsmanship, hand-forged and designed by some of the most well known armament makers from around the world. This test was the real deal all the way around and back again.

Cloud stared at the blade he held in his hand and took in its lethal elegance.

From the twenty-nine inch Damascus blade hand-sharpened on Wutai whetstone, to the fourteen inch tsuka wrapped in the traditional diamond pattern with black ray skin and silk Ito amid an Oni menuki, it was a magnificent katana.

Cloud ran a deft finger along the blood grove of the blade, the metal sleek as spider's thread to the touch.

Sephiroth shifted his stance, the leather of his pants suddenly becoming uncomfortable tight, and watched with intensity as the cadet tenderly stroked the blade with a lover's touch.

The boy was definitely _different_. _Appetizingly_ different.

Cadets came and went from season to season, and it was always the same yield of apathetic, egotistical, disreputable, wanting-something-for-nothing-good-for-nothings. Or there were the useless, gauntly, awkward, wannabes who could barely aim their piss in the urinal, let alone aim a gun at a target shoved up their runny noses.

Those who exceeded the norm but still lacked what it took to become what ShinRa expected to garner what they had propagated became a part of the expendable infantry.

But once in a blue moon, a certain hopeful would light the night sky and blaze a path of extraordinary talent. The last to do so was Zack Fair…two years ago.

It was time to pluck another golden apple from the bushel of Granny Smiths.

With another crude order barked from loudmouthed O'Malley's gaping maw, the cadets lined up as the Sergeant began blindfolding each set of eyes with thick, black scarves, making sure to tie the last one so tight the blood flow would be cut from the brain. "Don't worry, Strife. I won't rip that tight ass of yours wide open like Regal is gonna do," O'Malley whispered as his tongue slithered like a snake out of his mouth and slicked the shell of Cloud's ear. "I'll just drop you to your knees and shove my throbbin' cock down your pretty throat."

If looks alone could kill, O'Malley's bawdy ass would be a festering pile of appendages and innards.

Once the task was done, the Sergeant turned to face high, knowing someone was watching, but unaware of who, and gave a nod to the secluded occupants of the balcony above.

"That's the signal. Who's going down to do inspection?" Zack piped up expectantly, assuming since he was low seniority that his superiors would pick him for the task.

"What say you, General?" Angeal nodded, guessing the same.

When Sephiroth didn't answer, nor even bother to remove his incensed gaze from the floor below, Zack took it as a 'go ahead' and proceeded to the door. That is until a black leather clad hand reached out and halted his next step. "I'll go."

Zack promptly turned, a bit taken aback. "I can handle it, really, Sir. You can trust my judgment." the Second responded, feeling somewhat slighted.

The General finally tore his eyes from the enticingly blindfolded and susceptible blond cadet, and the bastard Sergeant, landing them upon Zack's puckered brow. "This has nothing to do with trusting your judgment, Fair," Sephiroth made perfectly clear in monotone as he walked to the door, "but, it does have everything to do with making sure that O'Malley is aware that I do not trust his." with that, the silver-haired First exited the partition and made his way to the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed! _

_I know it's been two months since I've last updated, and I am sorry. Inspiration has been hit and miss with both stories, and it seems like every time I think I want to sit down and start writing I completely lose interest. It's strange, but, that's how it goes, I guess._

_Either way, enjoy!_

* * *

A murderous glare pulsed wildly with malice as each beat of an erratic, dark heart pounded out a rhythm of bloodlust. _"How dare that foul piece of filth molest _**my **_dinner!"_ Sebastian seethed as he watched with pangs of sickness and abhorrence stabbing him in the gut while O'Malley practically tongue fucked Cloud's ear, making his whispered threats into loud and clear promises.

What the demon wouldn't give to be released from his master's order right now.

It was times like these that Sebastian loathed being 'under contract'. And because of the order given by Cloud, the fiend could do nothing more than standby and watch his master be besmirched and humiliated by the contemptible Sergeant that he was forced to obey, lest mar his opportunity at becoming a SOLDIER.

"_SOLDIER." _Sebastian sighed with disdain.

He understood why his master wanted to become a part of this exclusive menagerie so badly, but at the same time was completely thrown for a loop by the whole concept of putting himself through all of this schooling and training unnecessarily. Hadn't he been a suitable teacher? And hadn't he stressed so many times before that his master would never have to want for naught?

Fame—a snap of a finger.

Fortune—a twist of the wrist.

Power—with a wink of an eye and a bow.

It was that easy.

But, with Cloud, nothing was ever easy. And that fact alone molded a feral smile a mile wide upon Sebastian's dapper visage.

Cloud Strife was but the spice that put the fire in Hell's minion's blood.

"_To be given the gift of one day savoring the ambrosia that is Cloud Strife…bless him."_ the demonic servant whispered sultrily into the wind, his eyes roving his master's tense form, disappointment taking hold at the fact that his lord's deep, ocean-blue depths were lost in a shroud of darkness, unable to be drowned in.

Yes, his master was incomparable, indeed. Yet, that wasn't necessarily a _good_ thing. It was what one would call a 'double-edged sword'.

The rare ecstasy that is Cloud Strife's soul was a cache worth more than all the wealth that Heaven and Hell combined could ever offer, one a demon only fantasized ever being able to experience in their extensive, and most of the time, unfulfilled existence. Most, like Sebastian up until a few years ago, had to settle for meager scraps, souls that were spoiled, tainted and putrid.

The chemically challenged, suicidal harlots, targets of crime lords, the terminally ill…fraught and feeble souls that no longer had the courage to live, pleading for death to take them to another place, any place but the one in which they were forced to be, even if it was by their own doing.

Easy prey.

And the easier the prey, the less appetizing the meal.

Imagine what your food would taste like if you were digging it out of a back-alley trash bin infested with maggots, or sitting in your favorite pub and ordering the finest scotch in the house only to watch the barkeep pour you a glass of toilet water straight from the bowl after taking a piss in it and then slide it in front of you with a dim-witted, bucked-toothed grin plastered on his face.

To put it bluntly: Sebastian was beyond ravenous.

It had been ages since he had consumed a sweet and satisfying soul, but never in his entire—and _extremely_ long—existence had he ever encountered a soul like Cloud Strife's.

Attraction was satire. Obsession was absolute.

But, on the opposite edge of that blade lies the constant and nagging dread that another might discover said demon's precious treasure. Someone attune to the otherworld and able to sense a priceless soul.

There were plenty of other demon's out there, watching and waiting to snag a worthy meal. Most shadowed themselves in their true forms, while others walked nonchalantly among the humans like they were one of them. Fiends playing masquerade at the Monster's Ball.

And then there was _him_.

Vermilion eyes narrowed dangerously at the man that was making his way onto the floor and approaching with long, graceful and purposeful strides toward the blind cadets and the now wide-eyed and extremely overwrought Sergeant.

"_General Sephiroth,"_ the name rolled from Sebastian's cerebral tongue with bane, _"Please pardon my insolence for not slavering."_

It had been a bit of a challenge to keep this man from his master's sight, knowing that if he didn't it would prove to be nothing but a distraction and encumber his lord's progress…and generally unpolluted thoughts.

It was no secret that Cloud harbored certain _feelings_ for the great and powerful General, like most. Respect, admiration, marvel, jealousy. It was expected. But what wasn't expected was a night not too long ago when Sebastian was, as always, keeping vigil over his master's slumber to be completely knocked for six by the sounds of licentious whimpers and moans sliding sinfully from Cloud's mouth followed by a not-so-meek—"Masamune is no comparison, General."

The man held a power over Cloud that, for some ridiculous reason, Sebastian envied wholly. Not to mention that Sephiroth also carried an aura of otherworldliness that the demon couldn't quite place. It was unexplainable, as if it, or he, did not belong on this plane of existence, let alone on this planet.

And that alone was more than enough reason to keep ShinRa's Silver General from tarnishing the lustrous, golden spirit that was rightfully Sebastian's, and Sebastian's alone.

"Dismissed, Sergeant." a leather-clad finger of black pointed to the exit of the gym.

"Sir?" O'Malley barely sputtered out, bewilderment and panic oozing from his pores and flowing down his face in rivulets.

The General took an intimidating step forward; his towering height shadowing O'Malley who felt like his legs had been hacked off at the knees as he tried his damnedest to maintain some sense of dignity by forcing himself to keep eye contact with Sephiroth's now intensely glowing orbs. "I believe my order was quite clear," the General's voice deep with revulsion as he continued, "You are hereby relieved of your duties as of this moment. Your unprofessionalism as a member of **my** army is nothing more than disgraceful and I will not allow it to continue. You have exactly one hour to gather what belongings you have and vacate the premises. If you choose not to comply, proper measures will be taken."

Sebastian quirked an elegant, raven eyebrow. _"Well, maybe I was being a bit harsh in my judgment."_ he surmised as he jubilantly watched the now ex-Sergeant practically sprint his ginger-ass toward the exit and almost collide with the automatic doors as they opened for him to make tracks.

But that thought was short lived as the demon's crimson eyes narrowed dourly once again with the General's next action and words.

Sephiroth brought his attention back to the three blindfolded cadets he was now standing in front of. He didn't need to look into their eyes to know that they were beyond fretful. Except for the blond standing two heads down, that is. The General noticed a bit of a smug smirk hanging from the corner of cadet Strife's mouth, and found himself returning one, if only slightly. But it disappeared quickly with his next command.

"Blindfolds off."

Sebastian sighed. _"How very troublesome, now I definitely will have to garrote him with locks of that nappy mane of his." _

The cadets pulled their hands behind their heads slowly, hesitating a few seconds before finally untying the scarves that shrouded their eyes, but not their ears. As the blindfolds hit the floor, so did Avery, whom obviously couldn't handle the sight of his General, and the sheer grandeur that emanated from him, standing in front of him and gracing him with simple acknowledgement.

Sephiroth shook his head slightly and then looked up to the balcony above, signaling for whoever was up there to make their presence known.

Cloud stood stark still, his wide, bluer than blue eyes fixed on the man he had been waiting for so long to just merely gaze upon, let alone actually be within arm's reach of. It was a dream come true.

"_Master...My, Lord? Are you sure you do not require my assistance? You're eyes are quite glassy and your skin is rather flushed. Are you feeling well? Perhaps you have an allergy of some sort. I've heard of humans having severe allergies to…horses? No, that's not it. Donkeys? Wait, I remember! Asses! Large, silver-maned asses! It's quite common I hear, why just the other day…"_

"_SHUT IT!"_

"_Yes, My Lord."_

Cloud almost palmed his face in discomfiture, but then suddenly realized that no one else could have heard the conversation. If you could even call it that.

It was times like these that Cloud wished Sebastian had an 'off' button for his mouth. Ordering him to be silent never seemed to work without making threats. But most of the time that's all they were and nothing more.

Cloud was well aware of the demon's 'over-protectiveness', and there were days when that display of sentiment (though for reasons other than actual compassion) was more than bothersome and unwanted. And then there were days when he basked in the comfort it gave him, regardless of the fact that it was artificial.

The more he loathed the creature and the pact he made with him, the more he realized that he could not imagine the time he has left in this life without Sebastian by his side, and more than happy knowing that it will be him who takes his soul into the spiraling, black abyss of damnation.

He just hoped Sebastian never caught wind of it. Weakness did not sit well with the fiend, and an untimely end before his goal could be accomplished was not something Cloud could afford to let happen. Cloud had seen, first hand, what Sebastian can do when the demon's feathers were ruffled, so to speak. And it was never a pretty sight.

"He's definitely out cold." a teasing voice chuckled.

Cloud broke from his disconcerting reverie to find a familiar face grabbing the unconscious cadet under the shoulders and tossing him over his own. "Good luck, guys!" Zack gave a thumbs-up and a wink in Cloud's direction before turning and exiting to drop the dead weight off at the infirmary.

A wave of relief swept over the blond at the fact that that only left himself and Sean to battle it out for the Third Class position. It would be a tough fight, but Cloud was confident he could pull it off.

That is until the General spoke up.

"Since Sergeant O'Malley has proven incompetent to perform his duties as instructor of this evaluation, and the loss of Cadet Warner, I am going to take it upon myself to oversee and instruct this exam," Sephiroth stated, pulling his infamous sword from the sheath at his side and swiftly slicing the air in twain before raising it to point it directly at Sean's weapon of choice held by a magnetic bracer strapped to his back, "Arm yourself, cadet. Your assessment begins now."

Sean's eyebrows shot off his forehead in total, frantic confusion. "S-Sir? W-What exactly do you want m-me to do?"

The General lifted his chiseled features and lowered his narrowed gaze warningly. "Simple. Beat me and advance."

Sean swallowed the lump in his throat that was threatening to choke what life he had left in him out. "W-What about Strife, S-Sir?"

"_Fucking asshole." _Cloud cursed under his breath. Of course that coward would use him to divert the General's attention onto.

Sephiroth's intense glare moved to the blond in question, a bit of that smirk from earlier returning to the corner of his mouth. "His time will come soon enough."

Cloud froze, trapped in the heated beams shooting from the General's fierce eyes, his heart racing a million miles a minute to keep up with the lack of oxygen being breathed in. _"Heaven help me."_

An urbane, yet wicked, chuckle broke the mind's eye's silence along with five simple words. _"I know nothing of Heaven."_


End file.
